


His Work of Art

by Ink_Gypsy



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Sean Astin/Elijah Wood - Freeform, challenge fics, fffc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:06:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9540869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink_Gypsy/pseuds/Ink_Gypsy
Summary: Elijah’s Fantastic Fest tattoos bother Sean.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Against the Clock Challenge at the FFFC community: Write a fic in an hour or less. Elapsed time for the writing of this fic: 52 minutes.

“What is it?” Elijah asked as he took off his shirt and flung it onto a nearby chair. Normally Sean loved watching him get naked, but today, there was something different about his lover. “Is something wrong?” he prompted.

“It’s none of my business,” Sean told him.

Sean was already in bed, and Elijah stopped getting undressed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Since when?” he asked. “There isn’t anything about me that’s none of your business. It’s been that way for a long time. Why would it change now?”

Shrugging, Sean offered, “It won’t change, unless you want it to.”

Elijah knew that tone. Something was definitely up with Sean. “All right, Irish,” he demanded, “spill it.”

Sean felt foolish even bringing it up, but since he’d opened this particular can of worms, he didn’t feel he could turn back now. “It’s the tattoos,” he said.

“My tattoos?” Elijah asked. When Sean nodded, he exhaled in relief. “Fuck, Sean, I thought it was something serious. What about them?”

“You know I’m not against people who like ink. It’s just that when we all got the Fellowship tattoo, our Elvish 9, it was a symbol of the journey we’d taken together, of what we meant to each other.”

“I feel the same way.”

“Then why do you keep getting those free tattoos every year at Fantastic Fest?”

Elijah raised his right arm to look at the string of tattoos that encircled his bicep. The first had been a firecracker, followed by a ray gun, then a rubber chicken, and the last one, a dinosaur. “Why do I get them?” he asked. “Because they’re fun.”

“But they don’t mean anything,” Sean insisted, realizing how ridiculous he sounded, but unable to stop. He gulped. “Besides, they mar your beauty.”

Elijah didn’t mean to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. “What am I, a work of art?” he chided.

“You are to me,” Sean replied, his face flushing. “Look, forget I said anything. I don’t have any right to tell you what to do with your body so I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“I know it’s stupid—“

“Sharing your feelings with me is never stupid.” Elijah took Sean’s hand. “ You know, if the tats bother you that much I can see about getting them removed.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Either that,” Elijah joked, “or make you get identical tats so we’ll match.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious, Sean,” Elijah said in a tone that told Sean he meant what he was saying. “If it means that much to you—“

“No, I won’t ask you to do that. The fact that you’d even consider it shows me how much you care about what I think, how much you value my opinion.”

“Maybe I’ll get one that’s just for you,” Elijah suggested. “Maybe a shamrock.”

“You can’t do that. People would put the pieces together about us.”

“Not if I put it somewhere it doesn’t show. You could even help me choose where it should go.”

Sean felt the tension drain from his body. “It may take a while for me to inspect all the possibilities before I can decide on just the right spot,” he said with a smile, “so take off the rest of your clothes so I can get started.”


End file.
